Rex tilted his head, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. Okay, fair play... Amber’s body really was something else, Kardashian curves that screamed for attention from across the room. But then came her face. That part was... rough. Like the body had been designed by an angel and the face outsourced to a rookie intern. He honestly couldn’t grasp how people hyped her up as a ten.
"Lucas," Rex finally said, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent, "tch, tch, I can’t believe your standards have fallen this low. You’re out here calling her a goddess. She’s built like an hourglass, sure... but that face? That’s more like the creepy clock you keep hidden in the attic because it scares children. You don’t admire it, you survive it."
Lucas barked a laugh, though it carried more nerves than confidence. "Humph! You’re just jealous."
"Jealous?" Rex snorted so hard he nearly choked. "Of what, exactly? Of you dating the school’s fastest boyfriend-swapper? Please. My standards would file a restraining order if I even thought about that."
"Assets?" Rex’s eyebrows shot up. "Lucas, her only assets are front and back. And yeah, I’ll give you that... those are... impressive. Like, ’how do the laws of physics even allow this’ impressive. But the rest? Come on, man, her face is running on Windows XP. Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by novel-fire.net
"And honestly, bro, I’m concerned. Tyrone’s probably out there right now, sniffing the air like some wild predator. You don’t date
Lucas opened his mouth to retort, but Rex was already spiraling into his own comedy show. He could practically see it: Tyrone stomping through the hallway like a juggernaut, his footsteps rattling the lockers, each stomp making lightbulbs flicker. His shadow alone swallowing the freshman corridor. His eyes glowing the kind of red you only see in horror movies, steam hissing from his nostrils like an angry bull about to charge.
Meanwhile, Lucas? Running for his life. Arms flapping, sneakers squeaking, yelling "I regret everything!" at the top of his lungs.
Rex pictured himself off to the side, cool as hell, leaning against a locker with a bag of popcorn in one hand and his phone in the other. Maybe even live-streaming it. Breaking news: Local idiot outruns common sense, fails miserably.
"Honestly," Rex said out loud, his smirk curling wider, "I’m giving you three days before Tyrone shows up and folds you like a lawn chair. Four if he’s busy at practice. And when it happens? Oh, I’m not helping you. I’m recording. Full HD. Maybe even slow motion, with dramatic music. You’re gonna be internet famous, buddy."
Lucas tried to act tough, puffing out his chest. "Shut up. You’ll see. I’ll be fine."
"Fine?" Rex repeated, voice dripping with disbelief. He clapped Lucas on the shoulder again... harder this time, making him wince. "Fine like a deer on the highway, sure. Fine like ice cream in desert heat. Fine like—" He snapped his fingers dramatically. "Like every one of Amber’s last seven boyfriends. All perfectly fine... until she chewed ’em up and spat ’em out faster than a pack of gum."
Lucas chuckled, trying not to show that Rex’s words hit a little too close. "You’re exaggerating."
Rex raised a brow, dead serious for one beat. "Am I? Dude, Amber changes boyfriends faster than she changes socks. She had one with Tyrone, then that nerd from robotics, then... what was his name... Jake? Then the wannabe DJ? I swear she’s averaging a new guy every two weeks. At this rate, she should be charging rent for temporary boyfriend status."
Lucas opened his mouth, shut it, then reluctantly grinned. "Okay... yeah, she does have a bit of a record."
"A bit?" Rex barked a laugh. "Her ex-list is longer than my grocery list, and I buy food for an army. She’s like a walking relationship trial subscription... seven days free, cancel anytime."
By now Rex was grinning ear to ear, enjoying himself way too much. Lucas blinked, then straightened his jaw like he actually believed his next line could win an argument. "Look, man, maybe you don’t get it. You only get to be stupid and reckless once. Why not burn bright while you can? She’s fun, she’s hot, and if it ends badly I’ll break up and run. No drama, no anchor. Live a little."
He folded his arms, stubborn as a kid refusing broccoli. "Besides, I’ve got my own code. Call it survival. Call it experience. If something goes sideways, I patch it up, move on. People do worse, work dead-end jobs, marry the first warm body they find, get stuck. I’d rather have a few messy stories than regret at eighty. You ever regret anything?" He half-smirked, half-challenged.
Rex opened his mouth, looking like he had a whole lecture queued up, then paused. Lucas’s pitch wasn’t exactly wrong,,, there was something almost noble about choosing chaos over a life of careful regrets. For a second the jibe died on Rex’s tongue because Lucas had, absurdly, landed on an honest point.
"Okay," Rex said after a beat, hands up like he was surrendering to logic. "You say that," His tone lightened, grin creeping back."But don’t forget... you promised to call when it implodes. I expect a play-by-play." He clapped Lucas on the shoulder with friendly force. "And when Tyrone inevitably shows up and starts hunting you down and you run to me for help, I’ll make sure your funeral livestream gets good lighting."
Lucas’s eyes went wide; he opened his mouth to protest.
Rex cut him off, perfectly deadpan. "—I’ll make sure to visit you in hospital and give you a 4k copy"
Lucas stalled between indignation and laughter, then slumped, grinning despite himself. "You’re a jerk."
"Affectionate jerk," Rex corrected. "Now go. Enjoy your temporary bliss. But don’t come crying when you realise you signed up for the deluxe revenge package."